


Closer to Fine

by jeeno2



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Roommates, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: Rey’s hands slide down to her stomach—still flat; at least, still flat to a perfect stranger who doesn’t know what she looks like when she isn’t nine weeks pregnant. She gives her tummy a meaningful pat with both hands, and looks her new roommate in the eye, hoping he gets her meaning without her having to spell it out for him.(Or: When Rey Johnson goes looking for a new roommate, the last thing she expects to find is Ben Solo.)





	1. Prologue: Nine Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic as part of the Reylo Charity Anthology, which was distributed to donors to Save the Children, the Southern Poverty Law Center, and the ACLU back in November, 2018. And now I am finally able to share it with you. :)
> 
> This fic is a huge departure for me in many, many ways. The most significant is I've never written any kind of pregnancy fic before. For reasons. I can't thank hipgrab enough for reading over this fic for me as I wrote it, and for holding my hand and reassuring me when I thought I couldn't pull it off.

Rey stares down at the scrap of paper in her hands, trying to commit the address written on it to memory as Finn slows the car.

“2139 W. Riesling Way,” she murmurs, under her breath.

She glances out the window and realizes, with some surprise, that they’re already here. She  _ shouldn’t  _ be surprised, of course; this apartment is only a few neighborhoods south of where she’s been living since moving to this city. Somehow, though, when Poe described the area to her, it felt like this place was a million miles away from anything she’d ever known. 

It seems impossible that she and Finn drove here in less than fifteen minutes.

It’s a chilly day, dreary and overcast as only the Midwest in early November can be. But as Rey considers the building where she hopes she’ll soon be living, she decides 2139 W. Riesling is actually kind of pretty. It’s a tall, narrow building, made almost entirely out of brick like just about every other apartment building in this part of the city. But the wrought-iron flower boxes and bright yellow curtains she can see hanging from the second-story window make her think that maybe, someone who lives here has taken the time to try and make it beautiful.

She wonders if the apartment she’s here for faces the street. If she’ll be able to tie back those pretty curtains herself, soon.

As she ponders this, Finn pulls the car over to the side of the road, parallel parking it effortlessly. He nods in the direction of the building. “Well. I guess we’re here.”

She tucks the address back into the front pocket of her jeans. “Looks like it,” she agrees. She takes a sip from her thermos. Her stomach roils, and not just from nerves, as the cool water slides down her throat. “Thanks for the ride.”

She opens the passenger’s-side door of the car, but before she can get out Finn puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Rey,” he says, in the tone of voice he only uses when he’s being serious. “Call us if you ever need anything, okay? Anything at all.” He smiles at her, but it’s not a happy smile. He squeezes her shoulder reassuringly. 

She tries to smile back at him. Finn: the first person she met after moving to the U.S. for college, and the only one she’s always been able to count on. The one person she knows will always have her back.

“I’ll be alright, Finn,” she tells him. She hopes she sounds braver than she feels. “Aren’t I always?”

His smile slips a little. He’s not buying it. “Rey.”

“What?”

He sighs. “Just… just promise me you’ll let us help you if you need it.”

For a moment, Rey considers telling him she will do no such thing. Because the last thing she wants to do is to ask Finn and Rose for help. She’s in this... situation because of her own stupid mistakes. It’s not fair to either of her friends—both of them young and just starting out, themselves—to ask them to bail her out of this.

But Finn’s waiting on her to give him an answer. For her to tell him yes. 

She supposes she can give him that much. 

“I promise, Finn,” she says. “Everything’s fine, everything’s _going_ to be fine, but....” She swallows. Nods. “But, on the remote chance I ever need anything, or whatever, at some point in the far far _far_ distant future... I’ll let you know.”

Finn lets out a long breath, and squeezes her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’m still _super_ worried about you. But now I’m maybe, like... “ he bites his lip, considering his next words.  “Maybe now I’m like… I don’t know. Five percent less worried than I was before.”

Rey smiles at him, before leaning across the console and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll text you later and let you know how it goes, okay?”

“You better.”

Rey opens the door to the car again.

“Thanks again for the ride,” she tells him, before closing it shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment is, in fact, on the second floor. It’s a small building, made up of only six units. There’s no elevator, which means she’ll have to climb a single flight of stairs to get to 2139.

Climbing them leaves Rey winded in a way that reminds her, in a way that is impossible to ignore no matter how badly she wishes she could, that her body is no longer her own. Not really, anyway. When she finally gets to the second floor she’s breathing hard, which would embarrass her if circumstances were different.

Rey approaches the door marked  _ 2139 _ tentatively. Now that she’s here, she feels more apprehensive than she has at any moment since her life changed forever three weeks ago.

She stares down at the straw-colored _Welcome_ mat for a long moment. She bites her lip.

What if this guy is just like the people in the sublet she looked at yesterday? Poe—her favorite TA and her closest friend, after Finn—assured her he’s not. He’d said that if Ben Solo was anything like he was back in high school, he’s one of the most private people on the planet and won’t give two shits about her situation.

But what if Poe’s wrong? What if Ben’s changed since Poe knew him? What if… what if he freaks when he gets her story, and he doesn’t let her move in?  

_Then you’ll just find another place_ _,_ she reminds herself. _It’ll be fine. You’ll be_ fine.

Nodding to herself, and reminding herself that she  _ can _ do this, Rey balls up her hand into a fist and raises it to knock on the door.

Before her fist even makes contact with the wood, a tall, broad-shouldered guy with dark hair, dressed in green surgical scrubs, opens the door.

Rey’s hand slowly drops to her side as she blinks up, and up, and up at her potential new roommate. For his part, he just stands in his doorway silently, leaning against the doorframe, staring right back at her the same way she’s staring at him.

Eventually, he clears his throat.

“Oh _ , _ ” he says. Like he’s surprised to see her. 

Rey swallows. Hadn’t Poe told him she was coming? 

“Um. Hi,” she says, giving him an awkward little wave.

At that, he seems to remember himself. He clears his throat, and runs a hand somewhat distractedly through his mussed dark hair. It looks soft, his hair. (But she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.) “You… um. You’re Rey. Right?”

Rey breathes a small sigh of relief. He _had_ been expecting her.

Rey thinks back to what else Poe told her about this guy. Quiet. Serious. A medical student, so he won’t be home much. Not terribly social, so probably won’t throw wild parties on the nights he  _ is _ home.

He comes from a lot of money, and can easily afford to live on his own. But according to Poe, he’s looking for a roommate because he finds living by himself too lonely.

Poe hadn’t given her any physical descriptors. But then again, it hadn’t occurred to Rey to ask for any. Either way, she definitely would have remembered it if Poe had told her that Ben Solo looked like  _ this _ . His shoulders are so broad in those scrubs Rey can’t help but wonder if he maybe played football or something in college. And his eyes—his eyes are so dark, and so serious. Rey feels a little lost just looking into them.

As she continues to stare at him, Ben shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking a bit uncomfortable. He rubs at the back of his neck.

When he blows out a breath and looks pointedly at her again Rey realizes, suddenly, that he must be expecting some kind of acknowledgement that he’d just said something to her.

“Oh! Right,” she blurts out, like an idiot. “Yes. I’m… I’m Rey Johnson.” She tries to smile, but it’s difficult. He’s still looking at her, and her stomach is suddenly awash in butterflies. She can’t remember the last time she was this nervous.  

He smiles back at her—a real smile; one that reaches his magnificent eyes, causing them to crinkle up a little at the corners.  

He extends his hand to her.

“I’m Ben,” he tells her. “Ben Solo. It’s nice to meet you.”

She takes his hand (it’s enormous, absolutely dwarfing hers; the skin of his palm is warm, and surprisingly soft) and gives it a firm shake. She hopes, desperately, that her own hand isn’t shaking too badly.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me. Can you… um.” She trails off, averts her eyes. “Can you show me around the place?”

“Oh.” He drops her hand. He blinks at her, looking a little surprised again. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Um. Come on in. Oh, and—” he trails off, and gestures vaguely to himself. He swallows. “Sorry, I didn’t have a chance to change out of this before you came over. Spent all afternoon at the hospital, and…”

Rey blushes a little. “Oh, no worries. I’m no one to dress up for.”

Ben glances at her, gives her a strange little nod, and then looks away again very quickly. “Um, come on, then. I’ll give you the tour.”

Rey follows him into his apartment.

She marvels, right away, at just how  _ nice _ it is. 

Her current apartment—the place she’s lived all through college, and the place she’d be staying through graduation if her landlord hadn’t just raised her rent beyond an amount she can reasonably afford to pay—is perfectly fine. It’s clean, and in a safe neighborhood. In truth, it’s the nicest place she’s ever lived.

_ This _ apartment, though…

_ This _ apartment is in another category altogether.

“Um. Okay, so, this is the living room,” Ben says, gesturing to a large room off the kitchen. There’s an enormous flat screen tv mounted on the wall. In front of it a comfy looking leather sofa, and a pair of matching leather armchairs, are neatly arranged in a semi-circle. There’s a floral area rug in the center of the room that looks like it cost more than a month of Rey’s current rent. Bookshelves made out of something that looks a lot like mahogany, filled with hardback novels and various medical textbooks, line the walls. 

Rey tries not to gape as Ben leads her around his place. But it’s difficult.

“It’s... wow. Ben, this apartment’s incredible,” she says, honestly.

Ben glances at her briefly before looking away again and rubbing at the back of his neck. He seems to not know what to do with the compliment. “Right. And… um, this, over here, is the kitchen.”

As Ben shows her around, Rey takes it all in—the nice appliances, the granite countertops, the leather chairs. When Poe told her that Ben came from money, Rey had taken that at face value. But she didn’t really have concrete expectations about what the apartment might be like before coming here today.

Even if she had, the reality of this place would have blown them all out of the water.

He pauses when they get to the small bedroom at the end of the hallway. He clears his throat and points at the room. “And this… um.” He trails off. “This will be your bedroom. If you decide to… move in.” He pauses again, and bites his lip, his eyes on the floor.  

Rey pokes her head inside the room and is relieved to find that it is, as Poe told her it would be, very clean and completely furnished. There’s a comfortable-looking full-size bed in the center of the room. A small desk in the corner which should work out well for studying. And the closet should be perfectly fine for the small wardrobe she’ll be bringing with her.

“I’d love to take it,” Rey tells him. “If you’re willing to let me move in. But… um. There’s something I should probably tell you before signing the sublet.”

Rey’s hands slide down to her stomach—still flat; at least, still flat to a perfect stranger who doesn’t know what she looks like when she _isn’t_ nine weeks pregnant. She gives her tummy a meaningful pat with both hands, and looks him in the eye, hoping he gets her meaning without her having to spell it out for him.

At first, Ben only looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. When a few long moments pass, though, and she doesn’t elaborate—only pats her stomach again, and raises an eyebrow at him—he figures it out.

“Oh,” he says, eyes wide. His posture straightens. “Oh. I… I see.”

“This won’t impact you at all,” Rey rushes to reassure him. “The… um. The father’s not in the picture, so no worries about some random dude hanging around.” She pauses, swallows. “Also, my six-month lease with you will be up before the baby comes. Then I’ll be graduating and out of your hair.”

(She doesn’t tell him  _ why _ the father’s no longer in the picture. Or why she wants, so desperately, to keep this baby, even though she’s only twenty-two and this was beyond unplanned. Too much information for a first meeting for sure.) 

Ben doesn’t say anything for a very long time. That’s probably a bad sign. Rey braces herself for the onslaught of questions he’s about to ask her. For the judgment (spoken and unspoken) that’s come every time she’s told someone about the situation she’s in.

But he surprises her. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. “Works for me.”

A pause.

“Really?”

The corners of Ben Solo’s lips quirk up into a small smile.

“Will you be able to pay your part of the rent?”

Rey blinks. “Of course.”

“Then, yeah.” His smile grows. “Really.”

Rey stands there for a long moment, just looking at him.

“Great,” she says. “That’s… yeah. That’s really great.”

“Good,” he says. He ducks his head. “Good.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey lies awake that night in her soon-to-be-old apartment, surrounded by half-packed boxes, restless and unable to sleep.

Ben’s place is everything she’d hoped it would be. Clean. Close to public transportation, and to school. (It’s a relief to know that when her belly starts to swell soon she won’t have far to walk to get to the train.) It’s more than spacious enough for two people, but it’s not so big it’ll feel like she’s rattling around in it when her roommate’s away.

Her roommate.

Rey tries to keep her mind off her new roommate as she tosses and turns. Three weeks ago, when she learned that she was going to need to find a new place to live  _ and _ that she was pregnant in the span of forty-eight hours, she’d expected it would be hard to find someone willing to sublet to her. 

She’d expected questions, and pitying looks when she answered them.

She hadn’t expected Ben Solo. Someone who listened to her story with no questions asked, and said, sure-- you can live here. His eyes had been so kind when they held hers. Kind, and completely free of judgment.

When he’d introduced himself, his hand had been steady and sure.

Rey rolls over for the thousandth time, trying to ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach—her constant companion, these days—and tries to convince herself her racing heart is only a symptom of nerves.


	2. Twelve Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I anticipate updating this fic a little more often than once per week, given that it's already complete. :)
> 
> I've upped the chapter count from 4 to 6 because I've decided to structure the chapters a little differently than I'd originally planned. I haven't increased the total story length, though. It remains the same story that was originally published in the Reylo Charity Anthology.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely comments. :)

Rey makes it to the bathroom with only seconds to spare.

She stumbles forward until she’s on her hands and knees, and lifts the toilet bowl lid with shaking hands.

She leans over it, retching miserably into the basin until there’s nothing left inside her to throw up.

When she’s finally finished, Rey slowly closes the toilet lid. Breathing hard, she rests her flushed cheek on the cool porcelain.

Her guts feel like a old leather shoe turned inside out.

When Rey made it to the ten-week mark with no real complaints to speak of other than shortness of breath and an occasionally queasy stomach, she’d assumed she was in the clear. She thought she’d be one of the lucky ones: someone who mostly sailed through the more difficult physical aspects of pregnancy more or less unscathed.

But now that the second semester is within striking distance, it’s like her morning sickness has decided to make up for lost time. Smells that have never bothered her before are enough to send her running for the nearest bathroom. Rey has thrown up at least three times almost every single day this past week, and she’s lost five pounds since moving in here even though she didn’t have five pounds to spare.

Rey stays on the cool tile bathroom floor for another few minutes, head in her hands, until she finally feels strong enough to stand up again. When she does, she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror, and cringes. She takes in the dark circles under her eyes. Her pallid complexion.

She closes her eyes and sighs. Nothing to be done for it, she supposes. The doctor she’s been seeing at the campus clinic said she isn’t too concerned. She said that most likely, this is simply her first trimester’s last stand. In a couple more weeks she should feel mostly back to normal again.

Rey turns on the faucet and splashes cold water on her face to try and force herself to feel better. She has to get to school. She has classes, and a meeting with Poe. She doesn’t have time for this.

She dries her hands off on the towel hanging on the rack, opens the bathroom door…

...and walks, face-first, right into her new roommate’s bare chest.

“Oh, _shit_!” they exclaim in unison, before jumping apart.

Rey averts her eyes, trying hard not to stare at Ben’s chest, or at the way his baggy grey sweatpants sit low on his hips. She hopes, desperately, that he hadn’t heard what she’d been doing in there just now.

(Among other things Poe neglected to tell her about his old high school acquaintance was the fact that Ben Solo seems to view any moment spent wearing a shirt a moment wasted. It’s only been two weeks, and already Rey’s committed the muscular planes of her roommate’s impressive chest to memory. She hasn’t been _trying_ to stare, of course. But she’s only human, and at the moment her hormones aren’t quite her own. And quite frankly, Ben Solo has the most ridiculous body she’s ever seen in her life.

Not that she would admit any of that to anyone, of course. Least of all to Poe.)

“Shit, Ben. I’m.. I’m sorry,” Rey stammers, eyes on her feet. She brushes her hair behind her ear just for something to do with her hands. She will _not_ blush in front of Ben. She will _not_ _._ “I didn’t realize you were...um...”

“Don’t be sorry,” Ben says. She chances a glance up at his face. He looks just as mortified as she feels; she doesn’t know whether that should make her feel better or worse. “I mean, we share a bathroom. So…”

Rey nods. “Right.”

“Yeah. Right,” he agrees, his voice a little higher-pitched than usual. Even though he presumably needed to get into the bathroom a moment ago Ben continues to just stand there in front of her for a while. His eyes roam over her face, her hair, as he takes in her disheveled appearance. “Are you alright?”

Rey bites her lip, hesitating.

She doesn’t want to lie to him. But she also doesn’t want to tell him the truth, which is that she’s been sick basically around the clock since moving in. When she signed the sublease, she promised him her situation wouldn’t impact his life at all. It’s a promise she is determined to keep.

“I’m fine,” she tells him. She can feel her stomach start to turn itself into a pretzel again as she stands there, but she will _not_ freak out this very nice, very cute boy in the very first month of their living together. She refuses. “I’m fine. Really.”

Ben raises an eyebrow at her. “You’re turning green.” He puts a hand on her arm, and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. His hand is so large, and his palm is so cool against her flushed skin. His gentle, innocent touch sends ripples of sensation cascading down her spine. Suddenly, all at once, Rey isn’t thinking about her stomach anymore.

She swallows. “I am _not_ turning green.” The minute she says it, though, Rey cringes. Because while the words had sounded strong and determined in her head, out loud they make her sound like a petulant child.

Ben huffs a small laugh. “You are, though.” He suddenly adopts a more professional demeanor, and peers into her eyes, one at a time, like he’s her doctor and this is a medical appointment. After a moment of this he straightens up again, frowning. “Can you stay home today? Get your class notes from someone so you can rest?”  

“No,” she says flatly. “I can’t.”

In truth, she probably could stay home, just this once, and get notes from Finn later. But it doesn’t feel like a real option. Because while her GPA is solid, it has to stay that way. She absolutely cannot risk it slipping. The moment she found out she was pregnant, everything changed. Rey is the only thing in the world her baby has to count on. She just doesn’t have the luxury to start slacking off on minor things now.  

“All right, then,” Ben says softly. He gives her a small smile and squeezes her arm again. “In that case, good luck today.”

He moves past her into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Rey can still feel his hand on her arm when she leaves the apartment an hour later.  

 

* * *

 

It’s ten-thirty in the morning by the time Rey finally manages to get to the engineering building on campus. Poe is already waiting for her at their usual table in the back of the department library, his books spread out in front of him in a messy pile.

“You’re late,” he tells her. He’s smirking, though, and Rey knows he’s only giving her a hard time.

“Sorry. _Geez_.” She sticks out her tongue at him, making him laugh. She sits down heavily in the chair across from his, and takes her laptop out of her backpack. “Slave driver much?”

At that, Poe leans forward and ruffles her hair. He knows she _hates_ when he does this to her. Which, of course, is exactly why he’s doing it now.

“So,” he says, when he’s finished with his nonsense. “What did you want to talk about today?”

Their friendship began three years ago, when he was a senior about to graduate with a bachelor’s in physics and she was an eager, overachieving college freshman. He was her TA that first semester, but it wasn’t long before they developed a rapport that went far beyond academics.

He can be a total ass, and lots of times he drives her up the wall. But as far as her education and future career are concerned, Rey knows Poe’s always got her best interest at heart. When she found out she was pregnant five weeks ago, she came into his tiny office on campus and cried in his arms until the two of them, together, came up with a plan.

Rey opens her laptop and pulls up her email. “I want to talk about interviews,” she tells him. “Or, rather, interview strategies.”

Poe cocks his head to the side and looks at her. “Interview strategies,” he repeats.

“Yeah,” she says. “I have that one with the Primero engineering firm next week. I want to be sure I’m ready.”

Poe smiles indulgently at her. “Oh, that? You’re going to be fine, Rey. Seriously. I really don’t think you need to--”

She shoots him a harsh look, and he backs off immediately.

“I can’t leave anything to chance,” she tells him. He knows that’s true. “Reassurances aren’t enough right now. I need to _know_ I’ve got this interview in the bag or I won’t sleep at night.”

Poe doesn’t say anything in response to that for a very long time. Eventually, his face softens.

He sighs, and puts his books away.

“Interviews,” he says again, looking thoughtful. “I mean, I haven’t been on the market for an industry job before. But, sure. I can talk you through what I know.”

 

* * *

 

It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night by the time Rey finishes up on campus, and it’s eleven-thirty by the time she finally makes it back home. She climbs the stairs to the second floor slowly, absolutely exhausted by her long day. The only thing she wants to do when she gets inside is fall into bed as quickly as possible.

When she unlocks the front door and lets herself in, she sees there’s a light still on in the kitchen. She frowns, puzzled. If the kitchen light is on, Ben must not only be at home, but also awake. Usually he’s up before dawn, rain or shine, for his daily six-mile run. Unless he has to be at the hospital late, he’s usually in bed before ten.

Rey drops her bag by the front door and slips off her shoes. She makes her way into the kitchen to investigate, but stops short when she sees Ben at the kitchen table, head resting face-down on top of his folded arms, his reading glasses lying next to an open textbook.

His breathing is deep and even. Rey knows, without having to come any closer, that he must be fast asleep.

She smiles a little, in spite of herself.

She has a nearly irresistible urge to go over to him now and wake him up. To gently ease him out of his chair and help him get into bed in his own room. He must be exhausted, to fall asleep in the kitchen with the lights on like this. She’s heard medical school is brutal; this, in her mind, proves it.

But she’s only known him two weeks. He’s incredibly sweet, and he’s been so kind to her, ever since she moved in. But waking him up and helping him to bed feels… far too intimate, somehow. Inappropriate, for what they are to each other, and for people who know each other as little as they do.

She should let him sleep, she decides. He’ll wake up on his own at some point. And he’ll be perfectly capable of finding his own way back to bed.

Rey moves to turn off the light (that much she can do for him), and leave the kitchen to get some sleep herself. Before she does, though, she catches sight of a couple of things on the kitchen counter that definitely weren’t there this morning. She didn’t leave them there; and exhausted or not, Ben is so fastidious in his living habits he would never leave something out on the counter like this unless he’d meant for her to find it.

Quietly, so as not to wake him, she tiptoes across the kitchen until she gets to the counter and sees what it is.

Her eyes go wide.

Waiting there for her is a family-sized box of saltine crackers. And a post-it note.

She begins to read:

 

* * *

_Rey,_

_My mother was sick with me 24/7 (and likes to remind me of it at every opportunity). She apparently swore by saltines and ginger ale. I know every woman’s different, but I was at Jewel today and got you some of each. (The ginger ale’s in the fridge). Hope it helps you._

— _b_

* * *

 

Smiling to herself, Rey slides her fingers beneath the seal of the box as quietly as she can, and tears open the internal plastic sleeve the crackers are wrapped in. She pulls one out of the package and hastily stuffs it into her mouth. It’s bland, and basically tastes like crunchy air sprinkled with salt; but it’s the first thing she’s put in her mouth all day that didn’t make her stomach revolt.

When she swallows, the mouthful of cracker stays down.

Still smiling, Rey picks up the box and tucks it under one arm. She walks quietly over to the fridge—an ice cold ginger ale sounds _incredible_ right now—and opens the door.

As her hand closes around one of the bright green cans, Ben clears his throat behind her.

She turns, and sees that he’s blinking up at her, wide awake now but looking disoriented and confused.

“Sorry if I woke you,” she says quietly. She takes in Ben’s riotously messy hair, and the creases his sleeve seems to have left on his right cheek. He looks so innocent and adorable right now, and she can’t help but wonder just how long he’d been sleeping here before she came home.

He shrugs. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t be sleeping right now.” He tries, and fails, to stifle a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Around eleven-thirty.”

Ben groans. “Shit. I shouldn’t have done that.” He turns back to his books and blinks at them for several very long moments, like he’s expecting them to get up and do something. “Exam tomorrow.”

“Ah. Sorry.” Rey opens the package of crackers again and stuffs another one in her mouth. “By the way—thank you, Ben,” she mouths awkwardly around the crumbs. “Seriously, it was so nice of you to do for me.”

He looks up at her. And then all at once, the confusion and weariness from a moment before is gone. In its place is a warmth that is so earnest, so unexpectedly sincere, it takes Rey’s breath away.

“It was nothing,” he says, his voice smooth and rich as honey. He shrugs, then, trying—and utterly failing—for casual. “I hope… I mean, I just hope it helps you.”

Rey swallows, and tries to find her voice. “So far so good,” she tells him.

He smiles at her, then. How is he so good at smiling? “Glad to hear it,” he tells her. He clears his throat again and rubs at the back of his neck. “I’m really glad.”

Eventually, Rey does leave the kitchen. But she can still feel Ben’s eyes on her long after she’s in her own room.

  



	3. Sixteen Weeks

_ “Rey,” Ben breathes reverently against the back of her neck. He presses a gentle kiss to her nape, and then another. She shivers, for reasons having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. It’s warm here, in Ben’s arms. In their bed. “Wake up, sweetheart.” _

_ Rey rolls over so that she’s facing him. He’s grinning at her, so bright she can see it clearly despite the fact that it’s still very early morning, and their room is dark. _

_ “What if I don’t want to wake up?” she murmurs against his lips, teasing him. She’s smiling, now, too; they both know she wants this as much as he does. _

_ He trails his lips down her throat, across her collarbones, and down, down, until he’s lifting her t-shirt up and over her head and exposing her bare, swollen breasts to his eyes.  _

_ “Beautiful,” he murmurs, sucking one sensitive, rosy-crested bud into his mouth, and then the other, laving them both with the achingly soft flat of his tongue. She arches into him, welcoming his eager attention, pressing his head to her body as he kisses her.  _

_ “Ben,” she whispers. Ben. Ben. She reaches down between them and grasps him firmly with one hand, reveling in the weight and the heft of him, and in his sharp intake of breath when she squeezes him and begins to move her hand.  _

_ “Rey,” he murmurs.  _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Don’t stop.” _

 

* * *

 

 

“Mom, look. There’s nothing I can do about it. Alright?”

Rey blinks open her eyes, jarred from her dream by the sound of Ben’s loud, irritated voice coming from the next room. She can hear his rapid footfalls, which probably means he’s pacing back and forth out there. One of his most obvious nervous tells.

Rey stares up at the ceiling of her bedroom for a long moment, trying to get her heart rate to slow and her breathing to return to something resembling a more normal rate.

This isn’t the first erotic dream she’s had these past few weeks. Unfortunately, it’s also not the first one she’s had that’s featured her roommate.

Her hormones have been a fucking mess lately, now that the ickiness of the first trimester is behind her. At least this time, she woke up before things got too out of hand. Before Ben pinned her against the wall and fucked her— the way he’d done in her  _ last _ dream. 

Regardless, this can’t keep happening. This part of her pregnancy needs to be behind her—and the sooner, the better.

Rey rolls over onto her side and stretches, hoping to get a little more sleep before starting the day. But she’s startled fully awake when she sees what must be at least six inches of snow outside her window, blanketing everything. The sky is an impenetrable thick grey cloud, and huge, white fluffy flakes are falling so fast Rey wonders whether her university would even be open today if it weren’t already closed for the holidays. 

“Mom. They’ve cancelled _all_ flights this afternoon. Everything. In _and_ out of O’Hare,” Ben all but shouts from the next room. More pacing. Now he’s opening cupboards in the kitchen, and then banging them closed again with so much force Rey worries he’s going to rip one off its hinges. “It’s not like anyone consulted me before scheduling a blizzard over Christmas, alright?”

Rey sighs, and gets out of bed. She pulls on her fuzzy pink bathrobe and ties it around her waist —or, around what used to be her waist. Her body still doesn’t look _too_ different from how it did pre-pregnancy; but to the extent she _has_ gained weight, it’s all at her middle. Her formerly flat tummy is definitely a thing of the past; her days of being able to cinch a bathrobe, or a belt, tightly around herself are, too. 

She tries not to let these changes get to her too much. Some days she’s more successful at this than others.

Rey toes into her slippers, and makes her way into the living room. Sure enough, Ben’s there, pacing back and forth so rapidly their downstairs neighbors would be furious if they hadn’t left for the holidays last week. Ben’s cradling his phone to his ear, and his hair is an absolute wreck from running his hands through it while he paces. 

She sees he’s already dressed for the day, wearing dark blue jeans that fit him perfectly and a tight-fitting black t-shirt that shows off his chest and muscular arms. She’s reminded, irresistibly, of the dream she’d just had. The way those strong arms had felt wrapped around her body. Her body had fit so perfectly against his; his lips on her neck had been otherworldly.

Rey grits her teeth and forces herself to look away.

She  _ really _ shouldn’t be thinking about her roommate this way. 

When she looks up again, Ben is staring out their living room window, glaring at the snow as though it were responsible for everything bad that’s ever happened to him. 

She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him so agitated.

“I’m hanging up now, Mom.” Ben goes into the kitchen and starts rummaging around in the cupboards again. He seems to be looking for something, which is weird. Rey can’t remember the last time she actually saw Ben Solo eat. What is he doing? “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

With that, Ben hangs up on his mother. He hesitates for a moment, and then throws his phone against the refrigerator with so much force it’s in pieces before it even hits the ground.

Rey flinches, but takes a tentative step towards him anyway. 

“Ben?”

At the sound of her voice, Ben whirls around to face her. His eyes are wide, and both of his hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides.

He clears his throat, and rubs at the back of his neck. “Oh,” he says. He tries to regain his composure, but doesn’t quite manage it.  “Shit. I… um. I’m sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

She gives him a small smile. “I was. Up until a few minutes ago.”

Ben’s expression becomes sheepish. “Ah. Sorry about that. My mom, she…” He breaks off. Waves his hands in the air distractedly as he searches for the right words. “She doesn’t understand that sometimes, people get derailed by forces beyond their control.” 

“She doesn’t?”

“No,” Ben says wryly. “The universe usually bends itself to her will. It’s always been that way.” He shakes his head, and sighs. “Nothing blows her off course. Not even blizzards.”

Rey takes another step closer. “So. No Christmas trip to Vermont, I take it.” 

Ben’s been talking about this trip a lot the past few weeks. A Skywalker Christmas tradition, he’s called it. A tradition that everyone in his small family participates in, and a tradition that everyone in his small family despises. He hasn’t given Rey a lot of details about either the vacation or his family, but from the little he  _ has _ said, she can’t help but think the Skywalkers are some of the most dysfunctional people she’s never had the pleasure to meet.   

Ben chuckles darly. “No. No Christmas trip to Vermont this year. At least, not for me.” He shakes his head. “It seems like the weather gods have other plans.”

Rey bites her lip. She isn’t quite sure how to ask the question that’s been on her mind ever since he started talking about this trip. Families and the strange ways they operate have always been a mystery to her.

But he looks so unhappy right now. So in the end, she simply asks him. 

“If the trip is always so miserable, why do you go?” Family is important to a lot of people; Rey understands this intellectually, even if she’s never experienced it firsthand herself. But she also believes life is too short to spend precious vacation time with people who make you unhappy.

Ben doesn’t answer her at first. He stares off into space for a long moment, lost in thought, as though searching for the right words.

Eventually, he turns to her and says: “I honestly have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you have anyone to spend Christmas with?” she asks, a bit awkwardly, once he’s finally calmed down and they’ve cleaned up the mess he made of his phone. “Any back-up plans?”

She guesses he doesn’t. In the seven weeks she’s lived here he hasn’t had anyone over, either as a friend or as more than a friend. And other than the handful of overnights Ben has pulled at the hospital in that time, he’s spent every single night she’s lived with him right here at home.

Then again, Rey still doesn’t know him that well. Perhaps he does have someplace else to go for the holiday. Someone else to spend it with.

“No,” he tells her, very quietly. “Now that Vermont is out, I have no plans at all.”

“Oh.” Rey tries hard not to let her excitement show on her face. Tries not to  _ be _ excited.

“What about you?” he asks. His eyes are on his shoes.

Rey doesn’t have any plans, either, of course. In past years she’s spent the holiday with Finn. But this year, Finn is with Rose’s family in Milwaukee. And so this year, Rey had planned to spend the holiday alone, researching the firms she has interviews with in January and catching up on her sleep. 

“No,” she admits. “No plans. Finn’s away this year, and…”

_ And it’s not like the father of this baby is expecting me _ , she doesn’t say.  _ Whoever and wherever he might be _ _. _

At her words, the corners of Ben’s lips quirk up into a small smile. Though it’s possible Rey’s only imagining it.

“Let’s spend it together then,” he suggests, too casually. There’s no way she’s imagining the smile on his face, now. 

“All right,” she says.

Suddenly, Rey’s more excited about Christmas than she probably should be.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes Ben so long to get back from the grocery store that Rey starts to worry something might have happened to him.  

She can’t call or text to see if he’s okay, of course. With the holidays and the snowstorm, it’ll be days before he can replace his phone. But she  _ can _ call the store to check up on him. See if he’s still there.

She’s just about to do exactly that when Ben finally returns, his head and his jacket so completely covered in snow he looks more like a giant Yeti than a bundled-up human male carrying groceries.

But he’s grinning, a megawatt smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and lights up his entire face.

“I have returned from the store only  _ semi _ -victorious,” he tells Rey. He sets down his bags, absolutely bulging with goodies, by the front door, and stomps the snow off his boots on the little rug they keep there for that purpose. He’s got so much snow on him, though, the rug doesn’t do much; as he stomps his giant feet he scatters slush and melting snow everywhere. 

Rey can’t help but smile. “Only semi-victorious, huh?” 

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. Water droplets go flying from the ends of his hair. “Apparently, full-size Christmas trees are hard to find on December 23. I had no idea.”

At that, Rey laughs. 

She’s never given much thought to the timing of buying Christmas trees. Growing up, her foster families usually got trees, but she was never in charge of getting one. And besides, Christmas itself was rarely something she looked forward to much; gifts were usually perfunctory, with little thought given to what young Rey might actually want.

And since moving to Chicago Finn has always been more than happy to be in charge of the holiday decorations. This is the first time she’s ever spent Christmas with someone as apparently clueless about the trappings of the holiday as she is. She’d be lying if she said that thought didn’t make her smile.

“So—no tree?” Rey asks. She bites at her thumbnail as she watches Ben brush the snow off his coat, take it off, and then hang it up on the rack by the front door.

His smile slips a little.

“No. I couldn’t find one.” He eyes her carefully. “I’m sorry.”

Rey gets up from the couch and crosses the room to where he’s standing. The snow in his hair is mostly melted now, and his hair is starting to stick to his forehead. She has a nearly irresistible urge to reach up, and brush the wayward strands out of his eyes.

But she keeps her hands to herself.

“Don’t be sorry,” she tells him. She shrugs. “Christmas has never really meant much to me anyway.”

He swallows. “I’ve never cared much about Christmas, either,” he admits. “I mean… I grew up with a bunch of traditions, but…” 

He trails off. Slowly, tentatively, he lifts his hand, and reaches for hers. But he seems to think better of touching her at the last moment, when his hand is less than a half-inch away. He quickly shoves both his hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans.

Rey swallows, her heart hammering in her ears, not at all certain what just happened.

Ben clears his throat. “I just thought it would be nice to have a tree this year. I guess,” he eventually finishes, eyes on the floor.

“It’s all right, Ben,” she says. She smiles at him. “We’ll have a nice holiday without it. Right?”

Ben looks at her. His expression is unreadable. “We can certainly try.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rey is so full, so content and sleepy, after the incredible meal Ben made for them that at first, she doesn’t even realize he’s talking to her.

Only when he looks right at her, a slow smile creeping across his face, does she realize he’s expecting her to say something back.

“Oh,” she says. She shakes her head a little, trying to wake up. “Um… sorry. Could you say that again?”

Ben chuckles warmly. “I  _ said _ , I hope you enjoyed dinner.”

“Oh, my god,” she moans. She puts her hands on her very full belly and leans back in her chair. “It was amazing. One of the best meals I’ve ever had.”

And it was. 

Ben really surprised her tonight. Before today, she’d never seen him put anything into his body that didn’t come out of either a coffee mug or a water bottle. But he’s apparently a fabulous cook. Who knew? Between the blizzard, and tomorrow being Christmas day, pickings were very slim at the grocery store this afternoon. Even still, and on only a half-day’s notice, Ben was able to throw together a mouth-watering ham, a sweet potato dish with caramelized pecans on top that nearly brought Rey to tears, and chocolate chip cookies with extra chocolate chips.

Rey eyes the huge stack of dirty dinner plates and casserole dishes lining the kitchen counter behind them. Ben made so much food there wasn’t enough space for everything on his little table. She is so full from having sampled everything that she has to unbutton the top button of her jeans for reasons having nothing to do with her recently thickening waist.

He grins at her. “I’m glad you liked it.” He pauses, bites his lip. “I wanted to make a pie, too. But… well. There wasn’t time.”

Rey stares at him, and laughs. “You did plenty.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “How did you become such a good cook anyway? How did you even have time to learn, with how hard you work for school?”

Ben averts his eyes. His smile falters a little. “My grandmother,” he says simply. “Padme. She... taught me everything I know.”

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, the ticking of the clock from the kitchen and the distant beeping of the city’s hardworking snow plows the only sounds in the apartment. The weather report said the city got nearly ten inches today, with another five expected overnight. It’s good Ben went to the store this afternoon for food and other supplies; going anywhere at all will be difficult the next few days.

Eventually, Ben clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I hope this dinner was… you know.” He trails off. Shrugs his shoulders. “Some consolation, or whatever. For not being able to spend Christmas with your friends.” His eyes are hopeful, yet guarded, when they meet hers.

On impulse, Rey reaches across the small kitchen table and takes his hand in hers. He gapes at her, surprised. But he doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t pull away. Just the opposite. After only a moment’s hesitation he flips their hands so his is on top, and entwines their fingers. 

Rey stares down at their hands as they rest, interlaced, on top of the kitchen table. She’s hardly small, but Ben’s hands are so large they dwarf hers, making her fingers look positively dainty. 

It makes her heart race, seeing their hands together like this. To be touching him, and to know he wants her to. 

Emboldened, Rey gives his hand a gentle squeeze. He squeezes hers in return. 

Rey swallows, finding it hard, suddenly, to concentrate on much of anything at all.

“This dinner was hardly a  _ consolation prize _ . It was delicious.” And then, looking deliberately down at their joined hands, Rey adds: “I’m having a wonderful time.”

The answering smile Ben gives her is slow to appear. When it does come, though, it lights up his entire face. 

_ He’s so pretty when he smiles _ , Rey thinks to herself, feeling more than a little dazed.

“I’m having a wonderful time, too,” he murmurs. His voice is low, and earnest. “This has been—” 

He stops abruptly before finishing the thought. He bites his lip. Looks away.

“Hey,” Rey says, squeezing his hand again. “This has been, what?”

When he turns back to face her, his dark eyes are shining.

“This has been much better than Vermont would have been,” he murmurs. “Much, much better.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He gives her another crooked smile. He really does have the best smiles. 

Teasingly, she asks, “How so?”

He snorts. “I mean, the company is better. For starters.”

 

* * *

 

 

“A career devoted to public service,” Ben says, a little bitterly. 

It’s very late, and Ben shakes his head, taking a large swallow from the tumbler of whiskey he poured for himself a half hour ago. “They’re the only careers worth having, according to Mom and my uncle Luke. They’ve beaten it into me, over and again and again, for as long as I can remember.” He shakes his head again. Takes another sip. “Pleasing them is the main reason I went to medical school in the first place.”  

At some point after doing the dishes they must have moved their chairs closer together. Because now they’re sitting side by side, on the same side of the little kitchen table, their legs so close they’re all but touching. Rey has lost track of how long they’ve been holding hands.

Rey is more relaxed now than she’s been in ages. And yet every time she looks up at him, and sees the intense, unreadable look he’s giving her, she feels strung tighter than a bow. 

As Ben tells her about his family—about the enormous fight that led him to leave New York and move to Chicago ten years ago, and the unending stream of long-distance fights that have kept happening ever since—she strokes the back of his hand, very gently, with her thumb. He stops talking, and his eyes flutter closed on a quiet sigh. 

He has the longest eyelashes Rey has ever seen.

“But does it make you happy?” she asks him. “Med school, I mean.”

Ben doesn’t answer her question. He keeps his eyes closed. 

He doesn’t let go of her hand.

 

* * *

 

 

After Ben’s whiskey is drained and the candles she lit at dinner have nearly burned all the way down, Rey finally tells him the truth. 

“I... don’t know who the father is.”

His eyes had been closed a moment ago, his head resting lightly against the back of the couch. But they snap open at her admission. He sits up abruptly, and shakes his head a little as though trying to wake himself up.

He doesn’t say anything else for a long moment. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, and giving her an intense sort of look, like he’s trying to think of the right thing to say. 

He eventually settles on a simple, cryptic, “Oh,”

She smiles ruefully. “I met him at a party on campus,” she continues. “The stupidest part is, I didn’t even really want to go.” She closes her eyes. “It was consensual—I wasn’t drunk, or anything like that. But I was... stupid.” She pauses. “I never even got his last name. Later, no one remembered anything about him, or who’d even invited him.”

If Ben judges her for her poor decisions—or for wanting, desperately, to keep this baby, despite the fact that she’s only twenty-two and all alone in this country—he shows no sign of it. Not that at this point she really thought he would. After all, he hasn’t judged her for anything at any point these past two months. Instead, he only listens attentively to what she has to say.

“I want this baby, Ben. But… But I’m scared.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and she can feel her eyes filling with tears. This is something she hasn’t admitted to Poe, or to Finn—or to herself, even. She’s been so focused on getting good grades and finding a job after graduation she hasn’t let herself even think about it. Somehow, though, in the dim light of their shared apartment, as the snow continues to fall outside, it feels okay to confide this to Ben. More than okay. “I’m  _ really _ scared.”

Without hesitation, Ben pulls her into his arms. 

“You can do this,” he tells her fervently. Her head is resting on his chest, and it feels  _ so _ good. Like it belongs there. “You can.”

They sit together on the couch until early morning, holding hands and listening to the sound of the distant wind through the trees.


	4. Twenty-one Weeks

“What’s wrong?” Ben asks. He sounds concerned.

Rey pauses in the middle of spreading jam on her toast. She puts her knife back down on the kitchen counter, and then places her hands on the counter’s edge.

She takes a deep, steadying breath. “Nothing,” she lies.

Ben comes up behind her and puts a hand on her shoulder. Lightly. So lightly, she might think she’d just imagined it if these sorts of casual touches between them weren’t downright commonplace by now.

“You’ve sighed at least fifteen times in the past five minutes,” he points out. He maneuvers around her, and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig. It’s only 7:30 in the morning, but as usual Ben looks better, and more pulled together, than anyone has a right to look at any time of day. 

“I have not,” she says, pouting a little. She knows she’s being bratty right now, but she can’t help it. She also doesn’t really care.

“Okay. Slight exaggeration,” Ben concedes. “You’ve sighed  _ seven _ times in the past two minutes.” He pulls out a coffee mug from the cupboard above the sink and slides it under the coffee machine. “What’s up?”

Rey sighs again before she can stop herself. She winces a little, and watches as Ben bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“It’s… it’s just that I have a lot going on today,” she hedges. She picks up her toast and takes a small bite. “I have another interview this afternoon, and—” 

She swallows. She turns away from him, because this next part—the part that’s  _ really _ got her on edge today—she can’t admit that part to him. It’s just… too much.

A moment later his hand is back on her shoulder. More assertively this time. It’s warm, and reassuring. Just like he is. 

Things have been… different, between them, since Christmas. They haven’t kissed yet. In fact, they haven’t done anything at all besides exchange furtive glances when they think the other isn’t looking, and hold hands on the rare evenings they’re both home. But something changed between them all the same that night, when they’d stayed up past three in the morning holding hands and talking about everything and nothing at all.

And now, as they stand together in the kitchen, making their breakfast, his hand on her shoulder and her heart in her throat, Rey thinks about how badly she’d wanted him to kiss her that night. 

How badly she wants him to kiss her now, even though she knows she shouldn’t.

(All the same, she can’t help but wonder if he ever will.)

The hand on her shoulder gives her a gentle squeeze, and she closes her eyes. “What is it, Rey?” 

She’s being ridiculous. She knows that. And yet now that the morning of her ultrasound is here, all she can think about is every single pregnancy horror story she’s ever heard in her entire life. Most likely the baby is fine—she’s young, she’s healthy, and she’s hit all the normal milestones at all the right times. And she’s been feeling the baby move at regular intervals for weeks now.

But no matter how many times she tells herself she probably has nothing to worry about, now that today is here, Rey’s  _ nervous _ _. _ Close to terrified. And she just can’t seem calm down.

“This is too much to put on you,” she murmurs under her breath. And it is. It  _ is _ _. _ When she moved in with him she promised he wouldn’t have to deal with any of her nonsense. She’s kept that promise so far. She has no intention of breaking it now. “You didn’t ask for this. I can’t—”

At that, Ben puts both hands on her waist, and turns her gently around so that she has to face him. 

“I didn’t ask for it,” he concedes, very quietly. “But that doesn’t matter. Because you _can_ tell me what’s happening, Rey. I’m asking you to.”

Rey looks up. His eyes are warm and encouraging. And so kind.

The look he’s giving her pulls the truth from her before she can stop herself.

“My twenty-week ultrasound is this afternoon,” she tells him. “Right after my job interview. And I’m… I’m scared.” She pauses for a moment. When he doesn’t say anything, simply continues to look at her with a patient expression, she keeps going. “I know there’s no point in worrying. I mean, nothing has gone wrong so far, and the tests I had early on were normal. But I just… I don’t know.” She closes her eyes, hating herself for being paranoid but unable to stop it all the same. “I’m scared.”

Because, when it comes right down to it—she  _ wants _ this baby. She wants to be the kind of mother she never had. 

“I could go with you,” he says immediately. Her eyes go round with surprise. “I mean. If you want. My afternoon class was cancelled, so I could… I don’t know.” He gestures awkwardly with his hands. “Wait out in the waiting room, or something. While you’re having your appointment.” He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “If you think having someone there would make you feel less scared.”

Rey takes a step backwards, trying to process what he’s just offered her. His cheeks are a little flushed, and he looks more nervous now than he did a moment ago. But there’s no hint of regret or indecision in his eyes. Just the same warmth she saw in them before she’d confided in him.

He bites his lower lip as he waits for her answer.

She makes up her mind. 

“It  _ would _ help, I think,” she says, cautiously. “To have someone there. If you don’t mind coming, that is.” She swallows, and nods. “Thank you, Ben.”

He lets out a breath, and gives her a lopsided smile.

“Of course,” he tells her. “I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

 

The woman sitting across the desk from Rey is tall and willowy, and holds herself with an almost effortless grace. She’s got Rey’s one-page resume in her hands, her head bent forward a little as she studies it, and one delicately-manicured finger pressed to her lips. 

The longer they sit here in the woman’s office, not talking, the more nervous Rey gets. She thinks of the breathing exercises Ben suggested a few weeks back to help calm herself whenever her nerves start getting the better of her. Long breath in, and then out again, counting the seconds of each inhale and exhale, making certain she’s breathing out for a half beat longer than she’s breathing in. 

Out with the old. In with the new. 

It actually sort of works. When Rey showed up for this interview twenty minutes ago, her stomach was in knots. She  _ needs  _ to make a good impression today. This is the fourth call-back she’s had in as many weeks, but so far, nothing’s panned out. And then as soon as she’s done here, she’s off to her doctor’s office—to finally see her baby on an ultrasound and, hopefully, find out that her it’s healthy and doing well. 

It’s a lot, honestly, for one afternoon.

But as Amilyn Holdo, one of the partners in this firm, reviews her resume and prepares to ask her questions, Rey breathes in, and then out again, focusing all her attention on each breath— and she starts to feel a little better.

“So, Rey,” Ms. Holdo says, after what feels like a really long time. She sets Rey’s resume down on top of her desk. It’s mahogany, Rey thinks; a dark, spotless wood varnished to a beautiful shine. “What can you tell me about yourself that isn’t on your C.V.?”

She’s looking Rey right in the eye. Rey decides to take it as a good sign. Not once in the ten minutes she’s been in here has Ms. Holdo snuck a look at her belly. At all her other interviews, her now-obvious pregnancy was the main thing they wanted to talk about. When was she due? Would her baby’s arrival mean she’d need to push back her start date. If so, by how much? 

Rey doesn’t think the fact that she’s having a baby should matter to employers. She’s also not even sure it’s legal for them to ask these kinds of questions in the first place. She has a great GPA, good references, and solid work experience. If a male applicant were going to be a parent right after graduation she doubts very seriously any of these questions would even come up.

Rey ponders Ms. Holdo’s question for a moment. She sits up a little straighter, squares her shoulders, and decides to go with her instincts.

“I am probably the hardest-working person you will ever meet,” Rey tells her, trying to convey a confidence she doesn’t quite feel. “And definitely the most determined.”

Ms. Holdo grabs a pen from the top of her desk, and makes careful notes on Rey’s resume. “Tell me more,” she says, smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

When Rey gets out of her interview she immediately checks her phone to see if she has any messages. She smiles when sees that Ben texted her about twenty minutes ago.

**i hope it went well**

**see you soon**

Rey runs her fingers over the words. She closes her eyes, and holds her phone to her chest.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Rey replies to him:

_ < _ _ I think it went well _ _ > _

_ < _ _ But it’s impossible to tell with these things _ _ > _

And then, she adds:

_ < _ _ See you soon _ _ > _

Rey puts her phone back in her purse. Her heart in her throat, she begins the half-mile walk to her OB’s office.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben is already in the waiting room when Rey gets there. He’s one of the only men here, and the only one who isn’t sitting with his arm wrapped around a visibly pregnant woman. He’s in one of the room’s straight-backed chairs, with a ridiculously thick textbook propped open on one knee, looking far more at ease in this setting than Rey herself has ever been on any of her own visits here.

After giving her name and insurance card to the receptionist, Rey grabs a magazine at random from the rack by the door and makes her way to where Ben’s sitting.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she says.

He looks up from his book. “Of course.” He pats the empty seat beside him, and she sits down. He quickly takes her hand. “I’m glad I could make it work.”

Now that he’s here, Rey feels more than a little foolish about having asked him to come. It’s not that she isn’t still very worried about what the ultrasound might show. Because she is. In truth, this appointment is the first time in the months since she first learned of her pregnancy that she felt she wouldn’t be able to make it through something without another person’s hand to hold.

But now that he’s here, she realizes that even if she does have someone’s shoulder to cry on in the immediate aftermath of getting bad news today, that won’t really make it any better. Getting bad news today will be devastating to her in a way she wouldn’t have dreamed of just a few months ago.

“Are you all right?” he asks her, looking worried. 

She shrugs. “I think so.” She isn’t. She  _ really _ isn’t. But she will be, she hopes. In about half an hour, assuming everything goes okay, she will be.

The door that leads to the exam rooms swings open, and a tall, red-headed nurse with a clipboard steps into the waiting room. 

“Rey Johnson?” she says, in a pleasant voice.

“Yeah. That’s me.” Rey raises her free hand. She turns to face Ben. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, I guess?”

He smiles at her. “I’ll be out here, waiting.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” the nurse cuts in. “You can go in with her.” She smiles pleasantly as she flips through Rey’s chart.  “Husbands go into the exam rooms all the time.”

At that, Rey’s eyes go so wide it feels like they’re about to pop out of her head. The hold Ben has on her hand tightens, and Rey doesn’t dare turn around to look at him.

She drops his hand. 

“We’re not… he’s not…” she begins, feeling suddenly like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room.

But the nurse isn’t listening anymore. Now that she’s told Rey that the doctor’s ready for her, her job here is done. She’s already heading back to the exam rooms. 

Rey stands up awkwardly from her chair, and finally finds the courage to look at Ben. His eyes are wide, too, but he isn’t looking at her. The tips of his ears are turning a violent shade of pink.

“Um… I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she mumbles. He nods, a little robotically, his eyes fixed firmly on an invisible spot of nothing on the floor. 

“Yeah. Um… okay.” Ben tries to smile reassuringly at her. But it looks a bit forced, and doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be here when you come out.”

“Okay,” she says back to him. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a girl.

It’s a  _ girl _ .

And she’s perfect.

Ten fingers. Ten toes. With all the parts of her little heart and her little brain and her tiny little internal organs in beautiful, perfect, working order.

Rey floats out of the exam room on a cloud, the picture the ultrasound tech gave her of her daughter clutched tightly in her hands. She’s so dazed, in fact, that she barely even notices it when she’s made it back to the waiting room. 

She’s going to be a mother.

This is real. This is happening. She is going to be a  _ mother _ .

At length, Ben’s hands find her. 

_ Ben _ _.  _

He reaches for her, runs his hands over her arms. Touches her face. It brings her back to reality. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks tentatively. His hand is cupping her cheek, now, and he’s looking down at her with a mixture of anticipation and concern. 

On impulse, and because she isn’t really thinking very clearly right now, Rey throws herself into his arms.

After only a moment’s hesitation he wraps his arms around her, and pulls her close.

“It’s a girl,” she says, beaming up at him. Tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes, but she pays them no mind. “She’s  _ perfect _ .”

“A girl,” he says, very slowly. He sounds—looks—a little stunned. “That’s.. that’s wonderful.”

She nods. “Yeah.” Her tears are falling in earnest now, but she’s too far gone to be embarrassed. “It is.”

And then, because it feels like the most natural thing in the world to do, she rises up on her tiptoes and kisses him.

When they break apart, the smile he gives her would outshine any sun.


	5. Twenty-five Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapter! This week has been insane for me, to the point where I basically had to choose between writing and replying to comments. I promise you I read every one, and will reply to them when I have more time. <3

Rey lies in bed long after her alarm’s gone off, listening carefully to the sound of Ben’s quiet footfalls out in the living room.

She can’t go out there. Not just yet. Not until Ben’s left the apartment for the day and the coast is finally clear.

He’s taking forever getting ready this morning. He’s usually out the door within fifteen minutes of waking up—rain or shine—all dressed and laced up for his early morning run. Today, though, Ben’s taking his time. He’s lingering for some reason, puttering around their apartment as he makes himself a cup of coffee. Slowly empties the dishwasher. Takes out the trash.

Rey closes her eyes. She has to get ready for her morning classes. She needs to start her own day. But she can’t risk seeing him. Not right now.

She had another dream about him last night. He’d had her naked, pressed up against the wall as his mouth trailed hot, wet kisses down her body. By this point, Rey has had so many dreams where Ben is lying on top of her, his heavy body pressing hers into the mattress as they kiss and twine together in the darkness, she’s lost count. These dreams always leave her breathless and wanting, cause her to slide her fingers inside her damp underwear in frantic search of release when she wakes up in the morning, desperate... and so alone.

And it isn’t just while she’s sleeping. There have been so many times she’s wanted to kiss him. So many moments where she’s wanted to do  _ more _ than just kiss him. She wants to bury her face in his shoulder. She wants him to touch her. She wants to straddle his lap, and ride him until they both fall apart.

She wants. She  _ wants _ .

The longer she lives here, the closer Rey gets to simply caving, and throwing herself at him like an idiot lovesick girl.

What makes matters worse is she suspects he has feelings for her, too. More than suspects. She’s not stupid, and she’s not blind. They haven’t kissed again since that totally unplanned first time, after her doctor’s appointment, when she had just learned everything was going to be okay with her baby and that she was having a girl. But she sees the heated looks he gives her when he thinks she doesn’t see, and can feel his eyes lingering on her body when she moves around their apartment. And while ordinarily, reciprocated feelings would be incredible, and amazing, right now they’re just…

Inconvenient.

The last thing she needs right now is a distraction in the form of a sweet, incredibly hot guy like Ben Solo. And the last thing _he_ needs is to get mixed up with a twenty-two year old pregnant girl who still doesn’t have a job lined up, and who may not even be able to pay her rent anymore after graduation.

She needs to minimize contact with him for the rest of the time she lives here. For both of their sakes.

She should never have let things get to this point.

She throws her arms over her eyes and lets out a quiet, pitiful groan.

At length, finally, the front door to their apartment opens. It closes again a few moments later, and Rey breathes a long sigh of relief.

He’s gone.

Gingerly, Rey peels back her blankets and climbs out of bed. She stretches—trying, and mostly failing, to ignore the image of her swollen body in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her door.

She pulls on her bathrobe, and rubs her hands over her face.

Clearly, this arrangement isn’t going to work out for much longer.

She thinks back to the conversation she had with Finn the day he first brought her here. He’d made her promise to call him if there was ever anything she needed.

She checks her phone, and is relieved to see she only has two more hours before her coffee date with her dearest friend.

She hopes his offer to help her still stands.

 

* * *

 

 

The weather is cold for March, even by Chicago standards. Rey pulls her too-snug winter coat more tightly around herself, and shoves her mittened hands into the pockets of her jeans as she makes her way from the El to the busy little coffee shop near campus where she’s meeting Finn.

He’s already there, waiting for her at a small table in the back when she arrives, a steaming mug of tea and his laptop on the table front of him. She pulls out a chair and sits across from him, grunting a little in the process in a way that would have completely mortified her just a few months ago.

Finn looks up from his computer and smiles.

“Hey,” he says. “Good to see you.”

“It’s _wonderful_ to see you.”

It is. And it’s been way too long. Between all the doctor’s appointments, her job search, and just trying to make it through her last semester of college, Rey’s had very little time to do much of anything at all lately that hasn’t been pure obligation.

“How’ve you been?” he asks.

“Oh, you know.” She shrugs. “Good.”

Finn raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He looks, and sounds, skeptical.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Never better.”

At that, Finn rolls his eyes and pushes his laptop to the side. “Okay. Out with it.”

Rey bites her lip. “Out with what?”

“Don’t give me that. What’s wrong?” He gives her his earnest, I’m-your-best-friend-in-the-world look. The one that that tells her he sees right through all her bullshit, so she better just stop it now.

She hesitates a moment. Eventually, though, she sighs, and gives up. “I… I actually kind of need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“I was wondering… if it would be alright if I moved in with you and Rose for a little while.”

Finn sets his mug down on the table and stares at her in surprise.

“Why?” he blurts out. He shakes his head, and adds, “I mean, yes. Yes, of course, you can move in with us. We can clean out the extra room. It can be yours as long as you need it. But…”

He pauses, either not knowing what to say next or not knowing how to say it.

“But what, Finn?” She can feel tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes. She wipes at them with the back of her hand. She will not cry here. She will  _ not _ . “I mean, I don’t have to stay with you, if it’s too much. I could find another place until my job starts, and until I can afford my own apartment.” She pauses; but still, Finn says nothing. So she barrels on. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

Finn shakes his head. “It’s not that,” he says. He reaches across the table and takes her hand. “I promise. I just… I just thought that you and Ben were…you know.”

He trails off, and looks at her expectantly.

Rey’s stomach twists itself into a hard little knot.

She pushes her chair back from the table, and stands up. These simple movements are a lot harder, a lot more cumbersome, than they were just a couple of weeks ago. She wants to scream, and shout, and cry, but she doesn’t. Instead, she simply slings her bag over her shoulder, trying for nonchalant and casual. But the bag is much heavier than she thought it would be, and her center of gravity is nowhere near where it used to be. The combination causes her to stumble a little under the bag’s weight.

Finn stands up and reaches out for her, trying to help. She pulls back, flinching from his touch.

“Ben and I are... nothing,” she snaps. The words come out much harsher than she’d intended them to. But it’s too late to take them back now. She shrugs her shoulders, trying again for casual, though she knows Finn isn’t buying it. “We’re just friends.”

“All right. You’re just friends,” Finn concedes. “Why do you have to move out, then?”

Rey swallows. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She closes her eyes. “I just… I just have to. Okay?”

Finn regards her for a long moment, the look on his face completely unreadable. Eventually, he sighs. “Of course you can move in with us, Rey. You don’t even need to ask.”

At his words, it feels like a giant weight has suddenly been lifted off Rey’s shoulders. She lets out a long, grateful sigh. She drops her bag to the floor again, and sits back down in her chair.

“Thank you, Finn.” She smiles at him. Or tries to, anyway. “It’ll just be until I graduate and can find a job.”

“You can stay with us as long as you need,” he says, earnestly.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben is sitting at the kitchen table with his textbooks spread out in front of him when Rey gets home that night. She tries to make her way down the hall as quietly as possible so he doesn’t realize she’s there. But it doesn’t work. The moment she passes the kitchen, she hears him push back from his chair and start walking in her direction.

When she reaches her closed bedroom door he clears his throat, loudly, behind her.

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep, steadying breath before slowly turning around to face him.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks. Ben’s tone of voice isn’t accusatory. Just… hurt. He’s wearing one of those black t-shirts of his that show off his broad chest and strong arms so well it’s like they were designed specifically to torture her.

Rey averts her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Ben slowly makes his way down the hall towards her, stopping about a foot away from where she’s standing. He doesn’t reach for her. He simply folds his arms across his broad chest. But she can feel his sad eyes on her, all the same, as acutely as any physical touch.

“I think you know,” he says, very quietly.

Rey runs her hands through her hair and stares down at her shoes. “I don’t,” she lies. Her voice sounds shaky, dishonest, even to her. “I really don’t. Look; I’m super tired. Can you please just—”

At that, Ben reaches out, slowly, tentatively, and rests one of his hands on her shoulder. His hand is so warm she can feel his touch through her coat, her sweater, all the way down to her skin.

She shouldn’t let him touch her like this. She should move away, put some distance between them. For his sake. And for hers.

But it feels so good, him touching her like this. She glances up at his face. The look he’s giving her right now is so open and earnest it breaks her heart.

Ben presses on. “The past few weeks, something’s been… off, between us.” His eyes drop to the floor, but he doesn’t move away. He leaves his hand right where it is. “Every time I enter a room, you leave it. I don’t see you in the mornings anymore when I’m getting ready for my run. Or in the evenings, either.” He looks at her face, then looks away again. “It feels like you’re hiding from me, or something. It’s felt that way ever since…”

_ Ever since I kissed you in the doctor’s office, Ben Solo. Ever since I realized, for sure, that I was falling for you. _

He doesn’t finish his thought. But he doesn’t need to.

“Ben…” she begins. But she trails off, because she doesn’t know how to put every conflicting thing she’s feeling right now into words he will understand. Or even words that  _ she _ will understand.

“What is it?” he asks. He takes a small, tentative step closer. “Please. Just tell me.”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

_ He deserves the truth _ , she decides.  _ He deserves at least that much. _

“I just… I don’t want to be a burden on you,” she murmurs.

Ben blinks at her, confused. Whatever he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that.

“What?”

She huffs a little, frustrated. This is so hard. Why does this have to be so hard? “I’m just... I’m just  _ a lot _ right now. Okay?” She shakes her head. “I’m only twenty-two years old, and… and I’m going to have a baby in a few months. I don’t have a job after graduation, and…” She trails off. Shakes her head.

He moves in a little closer, and touches her chin so she has to look at him. “I don’t care about any of that.”

“You should.” She can get the rest of this out. She  _ can _ _. _ “You’re going to be a doctor. You have your whole life ahead of you and I just… I just know that if I get too close, if I let you get too close, I’m just going to fuck it all up for you.”  She swallows. “It’s too much for you.”

He chuckles a little. Somehow, though, it sounds sad to Rey. “You will not fuck anything up for me.” He lifts both hands and gently cups her cheeks. “And it is  _ not _ too much.”

“You don’t know that,” she says. “You don’t. I’m going to have a  _ baby _ . For all I know, I won’t be able to even stay in the U.S. after I graduate from college, because I don’t have a job lined up yet. You just… I just don’t want to saddle you with…”

He swallows. Moves a little closer. “With what?”

A beat.

“With me.”

“Has it never occurred to you that I might  _ want _ to be saddled with you?” His hands slide down her arms until he’s gripping both of her wrists. His grip isn’t hard—he’s not hurting her in any way; not at all—but, it’s forceful all the same. It tells her, better than words ever could, that he means what he’s saying and wants, desperately, for her to believe him. “Has it never occurred to you that I might think you’re the bravest, most interesting, beautiful—most  _ inspiring _ woman I’ve ever met in my life?”

He can’t mean what he’s saying. He just  _ can’t _ _.  _ The longer he speaks, the higher in pitch his voice gets. He’s breathing hard now, clearly agitated. His eyes are fierce, intense, as he regards her.

Rey’s heart is hammering in her chest a mile a minute. She finds she cannot look away.

She licks her lips, and...

“Ben,” she murmurs, shaking her head.

“Stay with me,” he whispers, a moment before he closes the distance between them and kisses her.

Ben’s lips on hers are soft, warm, pliant—and the kiss is just as tender as she’s imagined it would be in all the dreams she’s had of him touching her exactly like this. And yet it’s so tentative, so shy, it breaks her heart. Rey winds her arms around his neck before she can stop herself, and he responds eagerly, his hesitation from a moment ago gone now, as he deepens the kiss and wraps his arms around her so tightly it feels like he’s never going to let her go.

“I really should move out,” she tells him, weakly, when they finally break apart. “I should… I should move out, right now, and—”

His lips are on hers again before she can get out the rest of what she’d been about to say. And she knows, with a lightness of heart she can scarcely believe is real, that she’s not going anywhere.


	6. Epilogue: Twenty-seven weeks; Six months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, and for your wonderful comments as I've posted this story. I hope you enjoy the conclusion. <3

_Twenty-seven weeks_

* * *

 

Rey lifts her shirt up and over her head, and then drops it to the floor beside Ben’s bed.

“Well,” she begins. This is something she wants more than she’s ready to admit to herself. But now that she’s here, with Ben, in his bedroom, and he’s looking at her like he’s a man starving and she’s a meal he cannot wait to devour… she suddenly feels incredibly, ridiculously nervous. She swallows, and gestures meaningfully to her bulging tummy. “This is me, I guess.”

She isn’t used to feeling this self-conscious about her body. She’s been thin her entire life, of course, and downright undernourished for good chunks of it. She’d been teased quite a bit as a child for her bony elbows and knobby knees, and as a teenager for being taller than a lot of the boys in her classes. But none of it ever really got to her the way her current situation does. She feels like a stranger in her own skin, all lumps and bumps instead of smooth, angular lines, and she can’t help but feel ugly right now, even as he gazes at her.

But Ben isn’t looking at her like he thinks she’s ugly. Just the opposite.

“God,” he breathes, his tone reverent and unbelieving. He lost his own shirt several minutes ago, too; and even though she’s seen her roommate without a shirt on at least a hundred times by now, she still can’t stop staring at his frankly ridiculous chest. “You are…”

“Fat,” Rey finishes for him, scowling.

He shoots her a look. “What I was _actually_ going to say is, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He shakes his head, eyes shining. “More beautiful, and perfect, than I’d even imagined.”

She can’t help but smile at that. “You imagined this, huh?”

He ducks his head by way of response, trying to hide his smile. “More than I probably should have.”  He steps closer to her, and pulls her into his arms. His body practically radiates heat, and she rests her head on his bare shoulder, unable to quite believe they’re here right now. That they’re about to do… this.

He reaches around her body and unhooks her bra with one hand, sliding the straps down her shoulders until it joins her shirt on the floor. His eyes drop to her breasts, and he bites his lip as he stares at her, the incredulous look on his face making her wonder if he’s also having trouble believing any of this is happening.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says again, before pulling her to him. His lips are so soft as they seal themselves over hers. And when his tongue darts out to taste her, it feels like home.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

 

It’s awkward, a little, once they’re both naked and lying next to each other on his bed.

Her belly is in the way. Even though she’s currently twenty-seven weeks pregnant, she... actually hasn’t done this all that often. But when she _has_ done it, she’s usually been on her back, the guy she was having sex with lying on top of her as he fucked her.

But it’s clear that position is not going to work this time.  

“Sit on my lap,” Ben proposes, after a moment. His cheeks go a little pink as he says the words—like he’s gone suddenly shy, despite the fact that just a few minutes ago he’d practically torn off her clothes in his rush to get her naked. He scoots back on the bed until he’s leaning against his headboard, the muscles of his chest so enticing that when Rey straddles his hips, she can’t help but reach out and touch them.

First with her hands—and then, her lips.

Ben trembles as she kisses a slow, purposeful line straight across his chest. He tastes like the day’s work, and sweat, and _Ben._ The sound he makes when she pauses a moment to suck one nipple into her mouth, and then swirls her tongue, will be seared into her brain for the rest of her life.

(Rey wants him to make that sound again and again, she realizes, with a sudden flash of possessive pride. She wants to be the reason for it, every time.)

It isn’t long at all before they’re both breathless. Rey yearns for him in a way she couldn’t put into words if she tried. His erection—rock hard, and bigger than any cock she’s ever seen in life— springs forth from a riot of course hair between his legs. One look at his face, and she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whatever nameless, desperate thing she’s feeling right now, he feels it, too.

Rey scoots back a little so she can position him at her entrance. But the movement is rushed and awkward, her center of gravity no longer what she’s used to. She stumbles a little, and has to steady herself by placing both hands on the bed. His cock brushes up against her backside in the process, and Ben hisses at the contact, his eyes rolling back in his head a moment before fluttering closed.

“Rey,” he gasps. His breathing is coming in quick, shallow pants now. He swallows thickly; she watches, mesmerized, as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. She fights back the urge to trace its shape with her tongue. “ _Please_.”

He opens his eyes, and the hungry look she sees in them does something indescribable to her. She reaches for him, and then—no time like the present, she decides—she sinks down on him slowly, taking him inside her inch by gradual inch, until at last he is fully sheathed inside her.

And then—

 _Oh_ , she thinks, too stunned, too full of emotion, too full of _Ben_ _,_ right now, for speech.

She places her trembling hands on his broad shoulders, just to steady herself, and—

“Rey,” he whines, impatient.

He crushes her to him, hard. And he begins to move.

His thrusts up into her are controlled, almost gentle, at first. She rests her forehead against his as they move together in a slow tandem, the feel of him sliding in and then out of her body like something out of a lurid daydream. Her body seems too small for him, somehow—too tight, too unyielding—and she feels stretched to nearly the breaking point as he moves within her. But then he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, mirroring her actions from earlier, and shifts her body on his lap _just so_ — and then all at once she is flying, soaring above him, tethered to this earth by nothing but Ben, the feel of his hands upon her body, and the way they are connected to each other.

It transcends all of the usual boundaries, this connection. She knows, with a certainty she feels in her bones, that whatever is happening between them right now goes far beyond sex.

“Ben,” she cries out. She speeds up her movements before she’s realized she’s done it, her mind no longer in complete control of her body. He’s only too eager to match her speed, and he grunts incoherently, the heel of one hand pressed up hard against her clit while his free hand white-knuckles the sheets. It feels like too much, and not enough, all at once, as he fucks her, as he tongues at her breasts and fingers her clit, and she worries she’s about to fly apart at the seams before he even knows how she really feels about him, and—

“I love you, Rey,” he moans, his mouth latching on to her collarbone.

His words push her over the edge, and she is falling, falling, headlong into the abyss as he holds her.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

 

After, he pulls her into his arms, cradling her like she’s something precious and breakable. She rolls over onto her side and he follows her, curling himself around her body like a warm, protective cocoon.

“I’ve got you,” he tells her quietly, dropping a warm kiss to the crook of her neck. She feels him smile against her cheek. “I’ve got you.”

She closes her eyes on a contented sigh, and burrows more closely into the curve of his body.

She doesn’t know what any of this means, for the future. She doesn’t know if she’s going to want to stay here with him forever, or even once her daughter is born. But she knows that right now, here, in Ben’s arms and in Ben’s bed, she feels safer, and more cared for, than she ever has before in her life.

As she nuzzles her cheek against his arm, she decides that for now, it’s enough.

“And I’ve got you,” she says, smiling.

 

* * *

 

 

_Six Months_

“She’s going to be fine.”

Rey puts her hands on her hips and bites her bottom lip, unsure about any of this.

“You don’t know that,” she says, defiantly.

Ben leans forward and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to Rey’s forehead, before turning and carefully handing Hope to the young woman in charge of Takodana Tots’ baby room. Rey watches them carry away her daughter who, fortunately, seems completely oblivious that anything out of the ordinary is happening today.

“I _do_ know that, though,” Ben replies, not unkindly. He guides her out of the baby room by the elbow, and Rey reluctantly lets herself be led away. When they’re out of the cheerfully-painted building, filled with cries and laughter and running toddlers, and in the parking lot by their car, he adds, “We researched the hell out of these places before picking one for her. Everyone we’ve talked to said this place was great. Remember?”

She lets him open the passenger’s side door for her and she slides inside, buckling the seatbelt robotically. Like it’s someone else’s hands, someone else’s body, simply going through the motions.

“I just can’t believe she’s… gone,” Rey says, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She realizes, on some level, that it’s ridiculous for her to be crying, but it doesn’t _feel_ ridiculous. She and Hope have literally been inseparable since the moment she was conceived, and even though part of her is excited to finally be starting her career today, in the field she’s been training for ever since starting college, it feels like she’s leaving behind a piece of her heart in that baby room this morning. And she’s not entirely certain she’s going to survive it.

Ben chuckles softly, and then turns her chin so she has to look him in the eye.

“She’s not _gone_ ,” he reminds her. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. To the tip of her nose. To her lips. “She’s going to be at Takodano Tots for four hours today. I’m picking her up at noon and then I’m taking her home.” He kisses her lips again, and she sighs, allowing herself to be comforted and revelling in the fact that her boyfriend wants, so badly, to comfort her. “We’ll be waiting for you at the apartment when you get home from your first day of work. We’ve been over this, Rey.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head on his chest. She can hear his heartbeat beneath her ear, steady and sure. Just like him. She snuggles closer. “I know. I know. It’s just that…”

He pulls back a little, and looks her in the eye. “It’s just what?”

Rey bites her lip, and hesitates, trying to think of the best way to describe what she’s thinking and feeling right now.

“Everything feels too… perfect,” she mumbles, eyes averted. “You. Holdo’s firm offering me this position.” She swallows. “And, Hope. I’m just… I’m just not used to everything working out like this. It feels like…”

_It feels like I can’t breathe._

_Because it feels like at any moment, something I love is going to be snatched away from me._

She doesn’t finish the thought. But when she looks in Ben’s eyes, she realizes she doesn’t have to.

“Get used to it,” he whispers, before pulling her in for another kiss.

She pulls him closer, and decides she will endeavor to try.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to come say hello to me on tumblr my SW/Reylo blog is [jeenonamit](https://jeenonamit.tumblr.com/)! I'm also on twitter at [jeenonamit](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Closer to Fine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638299) by [The Audio Awakens (bettertoflee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettertoflee/pseuds/The%20Audio%20Awakens)




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